ext_377647 ([identity profile] shortitude.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] polyarmory2008-11-15 02:12 am

FIC: The Key Is To [Team7] 1/1

Title: The Key Is To
Author: Cella [[livejournal.com profile] stereotype_vamp]
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Sakura/Naruto/Sasuke
Rating: R/M/adult
Summary: Only she dragged them here and locked the door and hid the key. SAKURA. NARUTO. SASUKE. Sometimes, things have to be talked out.
Spoilers: [livejournal.com profile] last_stretch!verse, so technically AU
A/N: For [livejournal.com profile] rearrangeable. Why the hell is my first Team7 fic a total AU? (for those who're curious, the gist it: college team7!, split when Sasuke's clan was massacred and he pulled a Houdini and disappeared.)


The Key Is To


you'll come back when it's over
no need to say goodbye
Regina Spektor, “The Call”


It's morning, and it's cold outside; Sakura orders them both to sit down. There are three cups filled with steamy hot tea on the table in her living room, and the heating isn't on because she can't afford it anymore.

They listen, and take a seat, each in front of a cup, and stare at each other for a long while, until the silence and the cold seeps into their bones. “You know why we're here,” she finally talks, and looks at Sasuke with calm eyes.

The boy makes a non-commital noise, and Naruto shifts on his side of the table, trying to shove away the bad thoughts of What This Could Possibly Be. He's trained himself well in the art of forgetting; Sakura's trained herself well in the art of pushing issues aside for the sake of others, and Sasuke, in avoiding people and running away. But now, it's winter, and it's almost Christmas, and they're almost back to the beginning—almost, almost, because it's as if they knew what's connecting them, but refusing to voice it. It's been like this for a while now, and Sakura decides she can't take it anymore.

“It's been over ten years now,” she says, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. “I think it's time to stop pretending we don't know each other.”

--

It's almost noon, and they're still in Sakura's living room—there's only one room in her little apartment, anyway, so it's just the same—and the tea is ice cold and forgotten.

“We used to climb trees,” Naruto murmurs, knees pressed against his chest and his forehead resting on them. He's remembering and he's hiding, because if he looks up, he'll see them and he'll cry—and he still doesn't want to cry.

“Yeah, you made it a competition,” Sakura says, a sort of laugh in her voice. They're talking about their past now, about the happy parts. They're starting the story from the beginning and going to its end, in chronological order—only this time, there'll be no running away from anyone.

“But Sakura always won, anyway,” Sasuke says, his back pressed against the wall—as if he's cornered, watching them and wondering how they'll worm their way into his world again, and if he'll let them. Of course he will. Slowly.

--

It's noon, and there's ramen on the table, but they're ignoring it in favour of talking, and crying for some.

“I hated you for leaving,” Naruto hisses, glaring at Sasuke from behind reddened eyes. “I hated you for not staying and letting us take care of—for breaking the circle--”

“Triangle,” Sakura murmurs, and leans over the table to press her hand to Naruto's cheek. “It was a triangle. And then it was just a line.”

“It wasn't easy,” Sasuke says, half a minute later, when he's grown tired of watching them look at each other like that, and wondering what he has to do to be a part of it again. “After more than ten years, even, it's still hard...”

“Fighting off the reporters was hard too,” Sakura snaps, her gaze on his. “Pretending to forget for Naruto's sake was hard—seeing him through nightmares, watching him like that was hard too. I couldn't sleep because I kept wondering how much worse it was for you.”

“Much,” Sasuke answers, and presses his palms to the table without making a noise. Touch them, it's as if he's yelling quietly at him. He wants back into that triangle.

“Then Sakura-chan left,” Naruto mumbles, bitter and sad. “And everyone kept talking about me behind my back, like I was some sort of spawn.”

--

It's getting closer to dinner, and there's tea on the table again, and the lights are on. It's slightly warmer in the room, because of them. Sakura's lying on her back on the tatami, her head in Naruto's lap and her feet in Sasuke's. She's the glue now, until they're not stupid anymore and glue themselves back together again on their own.

“I think, most of all, it's important that we talked about this,” she says, looking at her white ceiling. “I had a hunch about Sasuke the moment I met him, and I'm kinda sorry I waited this long to voice it. But, ten years, a month, twenty years, what is important is that we're together again.”

Neither has the heart to tell her they're not together, not really. They're just in it because she dragged them here, and locked the door and hid the key. So they've talked and remembered, and cried all they had to cry—some more than others—and nothing's clear, anyway.

“I think you should both stay the night,” she says, and it's clear that it's an order. By dinner time, they've rolled out the futon, and smushed together on it is how they eat the ramen from lunch.

--

It's midnight, and there's a glass of something alcoholic and strong in front of each—Sakura isn't sure what, since Naruto's the one who mixed it up and served it—and they're a bit red in the cheeks, or maybe it's just her.

“I always knew we'd be together again,” Sakura says, leaning her head on Naruto's shoulder and pushing him closer against Sasuke's side. Both boys tense up, and don't have the heart to tell her 'no', because they both know it's somehow true. “A friendship like that only grows stronger after tragedies.”

“Yeah,” Naruto murmurs, and leaves the glass on the floor to grab Sasuke's hand and Sakura's hand in his own and bring them to his heart in some weird, drunken state of emotionality. “And I love you both.”

Sasuke is forever silent, and awkward, and unused to all these displays of affection. And Sakura, Sakura's just smiling at them both as she says “Kiss.”

--

It's past midnight, and the lights are off, and the room is cold but they don't care. Her futon is too small to fit them, so they shove the blankets to the floor and move there. The drinks are discarded in favour of mouths and skin.

“The key,” Sakura explains, sliding in front of Naruto to push his shirt off his shoulder, “Is to not let go.” They don't know whether she's talking about sex, or life in general, or their messed-up friendship. Neither of them cares. “Hey Sasuke, Naruto-sandwich?” she says, eyes gleaming as she looks up at the quieter boy.

Maybe Sakura's a genius, Naruto thinks, because only she'd be able to convince Sasuke that threesome sex is perfectly appropiate given the circumstances—and convince herself of the same, too. He stops thinking, though, in time to kiss her softly—then deeper, then urgent, until she's scratching down his chest as a sign that she needs to breathe; he pulls away then, and grins. “That's like a drug.”

Then Naruto turns and kisses Sasuke in the same way, only instead of a scratch, the other boy only holds on tighter, fighting for control. A whine escapes the back of his throat when Sakura's lips press against his neck, and travel lower, and he thanks his lucky stars for tonight, even if it's just a one time thing.

It takes remarkably little time to get undressed, and then even little for foreplay—because it's urgent, and clumsy and not pretty at all, but it's still beautiful in a way. So when Naruto pushes inside Sakura, and Sasuke's inside him, he doesn't know what to do with his arms—where to put them, who to hold tighter—and they have a little moment where he's not moving. Then Sakura moves her hips, and Sasuke moves his, and Naruto strangles out a moan, and grabs onto them both somehow. Now he knows what she meant by not letting go.

The apartment's not cold anymore, and the noises are varied and subdued, but only when they aren't loud. Sasuke asks them to stay, and Sakura says she loves them, and Naruto can't stop saying thank you, and soon they're nothing but three bodies, three souls, and at the same time, one.

--

It's morning, and the sun's slipping inside the humble room. There's a makeshift bed on the floor, made out of blankets and pillows, big enough to hold three people. Sakura, Naruto and Sasuke are sleeping on the small futon, pressed tightly against each other, one blanket and their bodies as the only means of heat.

The key is to not let go.

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